if you're lucky
by cyclothimic
Summary: "You are red. You are blood. You are the purest thing in my life," he had whispered in her ear many times – during mission stakeouts, in bed tangled together, in the midst of coitus bliss – as a replacement for his inability to profess his true feelings. / Because she was. [Buckynat Week MCU Wednesday]
**for Buckynat Week: MCU Wednesday**

* * *

 _Never realized how lost I was without her, but I always was. Just some lost soldier who forgot he ever had a home until she gave me one. – James Buchanan Barnes_

* * *

Threads were fragile little things. They were thin and weak with barely any fabric holding them together. Threads were assumed to hold things together, but no one really thought that it could be easily broken to reveal a horde of nightmares and disasters.

Bucky had tried to avoid pulling on any, since he saw Captain America and was told that he was more than just The Winter Soldier. He wasn't sure he wanted to. If people asked him, he would deny it, but he was afraid; afraid of what he would see once he unwound the thread and allowed himself the luxury of the contents of his life.

He had forgotten everything. He didn't know who Steven Rogers was; he only knew him as a target and the hero of America. He didn't know who James Buchanan Barnes was; he only knew that it was a name and it gave him splitting headaches.

But the one thing he could recall, even barely, was Natasha Romanoff. Well, according to the leaks he found online nowadays, she was known as Natasha Romanoff. But according to the archives in his head – there was barely any – he remembered her as Natalia. He didn't exactly remember her, but there was something about that ticked him, some part of him that peaked whenever she was mentioned. Not even Steve could do it.

He could hear echoes of throaty laughter and husky moans between dreams; blinding red spilled over pillows or knotted up in a tight bun; nimble limbs that matched his whether on the training mats or in bed; the comfort of _home_. Those made him smile inadvertently and subconsciously, because those were the only times his mind was at ease.

Yet, he could also hear cries of pleas; hands stretched out towards him but not reaching him; arms pulling him away from an enchantment sprawled in bed; his own heart tearing in halves as he let himself be dragged away and installed in the cryogenic chamber. What would have happened if they hadn't found out?

Maybe he wouldn't be as damaged as he turned out to be.

It took him so long, _so long_ , to regain 90% of what he was; to finally understand why Steve was so persistent in his search for him; to comprehend why he didn't just shoot her straight in the chest every time he had the chance; to manifest a grasp on why every time he saw her, the urge that rushed through him wasn't to kill but to kiss.

He had scrolled through the information she had leaked for seven hours, reading and devouring everything he could find, pulling on the thread more and more until everything was spilled out for his view. He especially focused on hers, and he didn't understand why they said she was born in 1984 when she was so much older than that. He wouldn't have remembered those times he spent with her had she only been born in 1984.

When Steve found him, they were apparently going to go up against Tony Stark. He remembered Howard Stark, and he could hardly believe that bastard managed to produce an heir, _smarter_ than he was. Bucky thought that man must be rolling in his grave. And he had hoped that he'd be able to see Natalia.

And he did.

Only he saw her because he had to fight her.

* * *

He knew the second that she saw him, fully unmasked and right there in front of her, that she recognized him. She didn't show any special expressions to indicate her shock – she was too good for that, he did train her after all – but he had made love to her enough, trained her enough and just spent time with her enough to recognize the tint in her green eyes shifting a little and the tip of her lips frowning just a little and how she tipped her head back minutely.

And he loved her.

He didn't actually know how much he adored her until she was standing in front of him and he found that it wasn't simple adoration or lust or just appeal. He _loved_ her, with everything in him and everything he _could_ give. He just loved her.

" _You are red. You are blood. You are the purest thing in my life_ ," he had whispered in her ear many times – during mission stakeouts, in bed tangled together, in the midst of coitus bliss – as a replacement for his inability to profess his true feelings.

Because she was. He went back into cryogenic stasis a lot of times in peace because he had the knowledge he would see her again when they wake him up, and even though he wouldn't remember her, she would somehow come up with ways to make him fall in love with her again. He was so lost until she came and gave him something that resembled a home.

He clenched his metal hand, staring at her with a distance between them. He had wanted her to side with Steve, but Natalia wasn't anything if not a woman with discipline and a mind of her own, she was smart and she must have a reason for standing with Tony Stark. Honestly, he was only on the opposite side because Steve was his best friend.

He couldn't fight her.

When Steve gave the order, he ran forwards and swung his metal fist forward, not surprised to find her catching it easily.

* * *

"Natalia Alianovna Romanova, as I live and breathe."

"A lot of living and breathing you've been doing, haven't you? What with you shooting me and nearly killing your own best friend?"

"They took everything away, Natalia."

" _Don't_. I thought you were dead."

"They can't kill me. I'm too valuable an asset."

"Normally, I would call that narcissism, but it's true."

" _Natalia_."

"I said _don't_. I waited for decades, for you to show up. And when you do, you _shoot_ me."

"I didn't…I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Natalia. For making you wait; for shooting you; for not remembering."

"I can't – I can't do this. Not when we're still…"

"I love you."

" _James_."

"I love you. I didn't get a chance to say it before. I'm saying it now. I love you."

"I can't, James."

"I know."

"When this is all over, if we're still alive after all this, maybe we can –"

"Yeah."

"Get a haircut."

"I plan to."

"I'd wish you good luck but I need all the luck on my side."

"This is why I –"

"James."

"Alright, until later, Natalia."

"Better pray for it."

* * *

When he watched her walk away, he wasn't torn apart by despair. Because he knew in his core that they would see each other again.

And he would be damned if he didn't do everything he can to salvage the one good thing in his life.

* * *

 **yay or nay?**


End file.
